


The Party

by emdaro



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunk Jack, Drunk Race, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:45:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12062085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emdaro/pseuds/emdaro
Summary: Spot has a terrible night, culminating in a stranger attempting to pee in his sink, vomit, and then crash in his room for the night.





	The Party

Spot was never throwing a party again.

It had sounded fun, when Jack proposed it. They had a house off campus and they had attended many house parties their first two years of college which had always been fun. He just didn’t think about what hosting meant. It meant not getting drunk off your ass because you had to prevent people from falling out of windows or setting the front lawn on fire. Jack had curled up on a couch with some guy about an hour in, so he was basically useless. Spot was happy for him, sure. Ever since things had ended with Katherine over the summer Jack had been pretty mopey, even though their break up was mutual. But it had been a long time since Spot had gotten laid, much less been in a relationship. Then when he finally had an opportunity, he was stuck babysitting a bunch of drunk college kids. Not exactly the best night. He walked into the kitchen, groaning when he saw some guy trying to piss in the sink.

“Hey! Knock it off!” Spot grabbed the guy and dragged him back.

The guy turned around and tried to arrange his features into something resembling a glare. “I gotta pee. Line for the bathroom’s too long.”

“Then get the hell out of my house.” Spot ignored the way his heart sped up slightly as he took in the guy’s appearance because holy fuck, he was attractive. He had a snapback on over his blonde curls and bright blue eyes that were slightly narrowed as he tried and failed to look intimidating. He was taller than Spot by quite a bit but he looked like he had all the grace of a newborn deer, the way he stumbled when Spot nudged him towards the door. Spot laughed as the guy whirled around, trying once again to glare at Spot.

“You don’t wanna mess with me.” The guy mumbled, taking a swig of his beer. “I’m on the soccer team. I…I do sports and shit.”

Spot raised an eyebrow. “Am I supposed to be scared of you?”

The guy nodded vigorously, then groaned. “Shit.” He promptly made his way to the trash can and vomited, a little bit getting onto the floor.

That was the final straw for Spot. “Okay, everyone out!” He started shepherding people out of the house. Once Jack noticed what he was doing he began to help, the guy on the couch staring up at him with a big smile. It took about twenty minutes to get everyone out and once they were, he went back to the kitchen. The guy was sitting with his back against the wall, holding his stomach. Spot knelt down and checked his pulse. It was strong, steady. He was still awake, which meant he probably didn’t have alcohol poisoning. “Alright, what’s your name kid?”

“Race.” The guy mumbled, staring at Spot. “Don’t. I’m…I’m tough. Be scared of me.” His words were slurred slightly, his eyes unfocused.

Spot nodded. “Very scary.” He replied drily, then got to his feet and got Race some water. He knelt back down. “Drink this.” He helped Race drink the water, a little spilling onto the other boy’s chin. Once most of the cup was gone, Spot got to his feet. “You’re staying here tonight, I guess.”

Race nodded and his eyes slipped shut. “Goodnight.”

Spot cursed and pulled Race up, supporting most of his weight. “Come on.” He weighed his options, finally deciding to just let Race take his bed. He deposited the taller boy in there and walked back out. The living room was deserted, Jack and his friend probably gone back to Jack’s bedroom. With a groan at the mess around him, Spot collapsed onto the couch and fell asleep quickly. He was too worn out to think about dealing with the mess until morning.

The next morning, Spot woke up and got to his feet. He surveyed the room, noticing that a lot had been cleaned up. He heard noise in the kitchen and walked in. The guy that Jack hooked up with the previous night and the guy that had crashed in Spot’s room- Race- were gathering trash. Jack’s guy was wearing one of Jack’s t shirts and a pair of boxers, while Race was wearing the same clothes he had been the night before.

“What are you two doing?” Spot asked, going to the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup.

“Cleaning up.” Jack’s guy smiled at him and walked towards him, leaning against a crutch tucked under his right arm. “Least we can do, things got a little crazy last night. I’m Crutchie.” He held his free hand out for Spot to shake.

Race nodded, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “I…uh…sorry, dude. I tried to sneak out this morning but Crutchie caught me. We’re roommates. I was really fucked up last night and I threw up and I think I tried to fight you. I usually don’t drink that much and yeah, I’m going to stop talking now because I kind of want to throw up again.”

Spot was trying very hard not to laugh. The guy was even cuter sober, despite the stench of alcohol on his breathe and his rumpled appearance. All the false bravado from the night before had disappeared. “It’s alright. Isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with a drunk person throwing up. Jack can be…a lot sometimes.”

Crutchie’s smile brightened at the mention of Jack. “He can be. Last night he kept singing Disney songs and trying to climb out the window.” He poured a cup of coffee and started out of the kitchen. “I should go check on him.”

The click of Crutchie’s crutch faded and it was just Race and Spot standing in the kitchen. “How’re you feeling?” Spot asked, leaning back against the counter.

“Um, great. Never better.” Race sat down at the kitchen table.

“Really?”

“No, I’ve been trying not to throw up again and I feel like I just got ran over.” Race’s eyes slipped shut and he groaned quietly.

Spot laughed then and took a sip of his coffee. “I know the feeling.”

Race sighed. “At least I had a hot guy to take care of me.” His eyes flew open. “Shit, I…uh…I didn’t mean that…”

Spot ignored the dryness of his mouth and the way his heart had picked up, trying to formulate a response. “You think I’m hot?” He cursed inwardly. _Smooth, Conlon. Very smooth._

Race’s eyes darted around, as though trying to find an escape. “I…yeah.” He shifted awkwardly, getting to his feet. “I’m going to go now, because being hungover turns off my filter apparently and I really don’t want to embarrass myself anymore.”

Spot coughed and nodded slightly, debating again how to respond. He watched as Race shuffled towards the door, then made a snap decision. “Race?”

Race turned around, confusion apparent on his face. “Yeah?”

“Um…can I get your number?” The words were cringey, Spot had no idea why he said them.

There was a beat of silence in which Spot contemplated if it was possible to melt into the floor from embarrassment, before Race responded. “Sure.” He pulled his phone out and opened a text message, handing it over to Spot. With shaky fingers, Spot typed in his phone number and sent a text to himself. He handed the phone back.

“I’ll text you. Maybe we could go for coffee or something sometime.”

Race nodded, a smile appearing on his face. “Yeah. No throwing up this time or trying to fight you, I promise.” With that, he walked out of the house.

Spot glanced at his phone, saving Race’s number quickly. The party didn’t seem like it had gone so terribly after all.


End file.
